A Wild Boy's Journey
by Thomson
Summary: He'd given up everything- even his place in the band- all for the vain hope of saving his friend.  Rook is on a journey that will take him through danger and doubt, and expose him once again to his dark past. This is Rook's story in the final book.
1. Desolate

Disclaimer: I do not own Tales of Rowan Hood (I just love it!)

A/N: This is my first ever Rowan Hood fic. I've always wanted to write one, but I've struggled to get my ideas on the page. So we'll see how this goes. Please read and review. Enjoy…

Rook was lost in thought. Leaving Rowan and the band behind was one of the hardest things he had ever done. But he knew he had to do it. Rowan wasn't thinking clearly, she was losing herself. This was the only way he could help her. He prayed to the Lady he was not too late.

It had not been more than half a day since he'd left the group and turned back towards Sherwood Forest. Time stretched on as he walked silently between the trees. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to make much progress today. He decided to make camp for the night and continue on in the morning.

Rook started a fire and curled up by it to sleep. He thought of hunting or foraging, but he was too tired. He wasn't hungry, anyways, after all that had happened. He had abandoned his friends. He remembered their faces, Rowan's holding a quiet dread, as if she knew what he was going to say just before he did, and the others three full of shock and betrayal. _They must hate me, _he thought. _Maybe they will understand if I go back and beg forgiveness. _No, he could not go back now. He couldn't imagine doing so, either. He had a task, and would not return until it was done. Rowan depended on it, even if she did not know it. Even if she would hate him forever. He was doing it for her own good. For the band, who could not survive without her. He _had _to find her father. He was the only one she would listen to. He was the only one who could help her now.

He took out the strand if the ring Rowan had given him the day he had met her. It shined against his skin, dark with dirt. He fondled it in his hands and thought of his friends whom he would miss. Not long ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of friends. He would not have listened to his heart back then, his heart that panged with loss and guilt. He would have tried to tell himself he did not need them. Like a wild animal, he would have run away from attachment as he would his feelings. It did not do for a wolf to fear losing its pack. It would learn to survive alone, like Rook had learned when his father had died. But then to find a home with the others…it made it much harder to be separated again.

Now he was alone. Just as he had been for the years after he had lost his father. Only now, he let himself feel it. He would not become the wild boy again. The wild boy was not a brave wolf, but a cowardly pup, afraid to face himself. Afraid to feel anything for having to bear the heartache. He had been lost for so long. He had been trapped in the dark parts of his mind. He would not let himself go there again.

Then suddenly, out of the shadows, a dark shape loomed. Rook leapt back and pulled out his knife. What was it, a dangerous beast of the forest? Or worse, spirits? Against them he could do nothing. He crouched low and searched the darkness frantically.

A furry body crawled into the firelight and into Rook's view. At first glance, a wolf! But Rook spotted a familiar marking, and he realized it was not just a wolf-Tykell! Could it be, really? It was. The wolf dog crawled miserably to Rook's side. The boy put away his knife and stroked Tykell's head. What was he doing here? Did he leave Rowan too? The wolf dog looked up at him pathetically, sadness in his bright eyes. _He must have followed me,_ Rook thought, suddenly feeling terrible. As if it wasn't enough to leave them, he had stolen Tykell away. Maybe the wolf dog followed him, and now couldn't find his way back. No, that was ridiculous. Tykell could always find Rowan. He could wander much farther without losing her trail. He must have chosen to go. They had both chosen.

Rook laid down once again, Tykell pressed up against him, and tried to get to sleep. At least now he would not be alone.


	2. Homeward

Disclaimer: I can't own Tales of Rowan Hood, it's forbidden!

A/N: Thank you if you decided to keep reading. I know it took a long time to update! So sorry about the inappropriate italicizing at the end of the last chapter…whoops! I hope you enjoy this new one. Sorry about the OCC-ness of this chapter. Please read and review!

Rook hardly slept, instead drifting in and out of vivid nightmares. He saw Rowan and the band from a distance, all of them in the hollow together. Rook tried to call to them, but could not speak. Shadows engulfed him. Wild beasts ran at him, ravaging his flesh with their sharp teeth, and Rook cried out for help- but still, the message could not reach his friends. They turned away from him, and he was left to the wolves. The last thing he saw was the bared teeth of a wolf as it lunged forward to tear his throat.

He bolted upright, panting, with sweat glistening off of him. Just a dream. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to steady his breathing. Rook glanced around his little camp. Tykell was missing. Not surprising, as Rook thought, the wolf had probably gone to find some poor animal to make into his breakfast. It was time for Rook to move on. If he was to find Robin before it was too late, he would have to speed up his search. He did not doubt that the wolf-dog could find him again, so on he went.

The outlaw made his way through the forest, carefully, for he had much farther to go before he reached the part of the woods he knew well. It would not do to fall into a mantrap, for there was no one nearby to aid him. He shuddered at the thought. He did not want to suffer his father's fate. He would have to be very careful.

It was nearly sunset before he reached familiar lands. So far he had gone by the hoof marks Dove had left, and Tykell's sense of direction, for the wolf-dog had returned by the afternoon. Now he could see the line of the trees, and past it, the fields that led stretched to the border of Sherwood. It was the border where his old home still sat, though slowly decaying while unoccupied. Rook swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew he would have to go there, tonight. It had been too long, and once more, Rook felt the spirit of his father still calling to him.

He carried on through the grasslands until he reached the place he had grown up. Night had fallen, and Rook decided he would spend one more night in the small hut. As he reached the doorway, he knew at once that something was wrong. He heard a whisper coming from inside, a quiet voice murmuring words of comfort. Rook stopped short. Could it be his father's ghost? Was he mourning his death, there inside? Rook felt his breath come in quick gasps. He knew then and there he had to face whatever lay within his home. If it was his father…

He braced himself and slid through the opening and into the hut. The sight that met his eyes caused him to gasp in surprise. No, it was not his father. But it was someone Rook was equally shocked to see.

"Todd?" He rasped. The freckled boy looked to him, also in astonishment, and then broke into a wide smile.

"Rook!" He flung himself towards the outlaw and embraced him, hard. Rook stayed where he was, unable to move in his consternation, before he finally returned the embrace lightly. When Todd pulled back, Rook looked him over, still disbelieving. The boy was taller than he had been when Rook last saw him. He looked changed in stature, too; he appeared stronger and healthier, and not the skinny, stick of a boy he had been before. His voice was deeper, as Rook also noticed when he said,

"How are you? I came back a few days ago and there was no one at the hollow, or at Robin's camp! What happened? Where are the others?" Rook took a breath to speak, but Todd cut him off.

"It's alright that I came here, isn't it? When I couldn't find anyone- well, I didn't know where else to go. I missed you all! It was dreadfully boring in the service of his lordship- my mother's cousin, that is. I had to come back and see you all. I think Runkling missed you too." He said, gesturing behind him to the fattened piglet. Rook smiled at the hog, now a few seasons older and growing just as much as Todd. Runkling trotted over to Rook, who attempted to pull him into his arms. He grunted with the effort, for the pig once so small now carried twice the weight.

"So what happened to the others? Robin? Rowan?"

Rook took a moment before he answered. He looked to the ground of the hut, absentmindedly scratching Runkling and avoiding Todd's eyes.

"Robin traveled north for the season, like he normally does."

"And the others?" He waited. "Rook?"

Rook sighed and finally answered.

"Rowan and the others are traveling to Celadine's Wood. Rowan is going to avenge he mother's death."

Todd studied him quietly for a moment.

"Why aren't you with them?" Rook felt a pang of guilt. He had expected the question, but he still had no answer. No answer Todd could understand, anyways. The boy was hinged on loyalty. This explanation was not going to be easy.

"I…Rowan is…Rowan is not in her right mind. She doesn't realize what she's doing. I had to go."

"What? What about the others? Beau, Lionel?"

"They are with her." His voice quieted as he said this, guilt ringing in his voice.

"So you left her?" Todd said, a hint of anger in his voice. "After everything?"

"You don't understand." Rook growled in frustration. "The spirits warned her not to keep on her journey! She should have listened!"

"You betrayed her, Rook!" Todd cried. Rook heard not only his voice but the voices of his friends; Todd spoke for all of them: He had betrayed them. He put aside the guilt washing over him, replacing it with unjustified anger. He didn't care that he was wrong, that he knew, but he couldn't bear to listen to this boy-once his enemy, he reminded himself- criticize his motives. He had to do it, he told himself, even if Todd couldn't understand that.

"It's none of your concern! I did what I had to do!" Rook exclaimed harshly. Todd stood as tall as he could in the little hut and said coldly,

"Rowan may forgive you someday, Rook. But I won't." Todd grabbed Runkling and heaved him out of the hut, pushing past Rook. He turned and said crossly,

"Traitor!" Then he was gone into the night. Rook growled in the darkness of the hut, the candle Todd had lit going out as the boy took off. The outlaw searched around the hut for any flint, but found none. He felt slammed his fist down angrily and hollered in frustration, wincing at the pain in his hand. Of course he had made things worse. Todd was right, he was a traitor. They would never forgive him for leaving.


	3. Like father, like son

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood or any of its awesome characters.

A/N: Here's another chapter! I hope the characters are not too OCC in this. Please read and review.

Rook awoke with his neck turned at an uncomfortable angle, and his head throbbing in pain. He grimaced, remembering the fight he had had with Todd the previous night, before he had fallen asleep. Rook had tossed and turned, awake for hours before he was finally able to rest. He could not help but worry about the boy. Despite what had happened, Rook still considered him a friend. Todd may hate him now, but that didn't change the fact that the boy was inexperienced, and alone in a wilderness that he was only slightly familiar with. Rook tried to shake off the feeling. _He came this far on his own, _Rook reasoned with himself, _he'll be fine._ But the churning feeling inside gave him enough incentive to get up and slide out of the hut. He put a hand to his eyes to block the sunlight, and started through the field towards the forest. Maybe he could catch up with Todd before he traveled too far. Rook wanted the chance to explain.

It did not take long for Rook to find what he was looking for. He found footprints trailing towards Fountain dale, alongside them the small tracks of hooves: Runkling's tracks. Rook smiled at the thought of Todd pulling the fattened pig on his leash through the twisting undergrowth of Sherwood. He followed the prints for a great distance before he realized they had taken a turn Northward. It seemed Todd was not headed towards the spring at Fountain dale; though, Rook realized, he could have easily been lost and unsure of where he was going. Then, something strange attracted the outlaw's eye. He passed through two great oaks to find a wall of rock, hollowed out on the side, forming a stone archway. Its familiarity struck him. Suddenly, Rook knew without doubt where he was: his father's resting place, the graveyard of the outlaws. He ducked through the archway to find himself in the blessed grove. There, but a little ways from him, Rook saw the boy he had been tracking.

Todd knelt before the marker of Jack Woodsby's grave. The sight choked Rook, and he had no words, not even a call of suffering. A small gasp was all that alerted Todd to his presence. The boy turned. Upon seeing the other boy, Todd frowned, out of shame or anger Rook could not tell, and then turned back to the gravestone. Rook approached slowly, but stopped in his tracks when he heard the boy's voice say calmly,

"You must think it strange to find me here."

Rook could hardly think in order to speak, but managed to say,

"How did you…?" Todd turned to face him.

"I came here many times to talk with Robin, back before I left. It's so peaceful…" He broke off, looking up at the shimmering trees.

"About what I said," He began, meeting Rook's eye. Rook shook his head and came to sit beside him.

"It was true. That's all…it was true." Rook muttered.

"I spoke in anger. I know you wouldn't betray them. Rowan knows it too."

Todd stood and reached out a hand to Rook. The boy looked up, eyebrows knitting together in doubt.

"Don't worry, you'll see. Come on." The outlaw took the hand and rose up to join his friend in leaving the grove. Rook turned back, and took a last look at the grave marker.

"I'll see you again, father." He breathed. Todd collected Runkling, and the two boys walked in even strides from the grove.

"So what will you do, now that everyone is gone?" Rook asked the Todd.

"I think I should go with you to find Robin. If I can be of help, and if you'll have me," He said, throwing a questioning glance at Rook. The other boy nodded, thinking of how strange it was that he had ever been enemies with the lad.

"Anything, as long as I never have to go back to Nottingham." Todd said darkly. He softened. "You were lucky Rook, to have had him for your father. I wish I had known him."

Suddenly, the sound of cracking tree branches and hoof beats erupted close to them. Far too close. The sheriff's riders would be upon them within a moment. Rook's eyes darted away from the tree line and back at Todd.

"Hide!" He rasped, darting behind a tree. Todd let Runkling to the ground, and as the pig scampered off, he ducked into a bush, only half hidden, and desperately trying to disappear. Rook took in the panted breaths and wild panic in the other boy's eyes. He could not let him be caught. In a flash, Rook's fear became resolve. He knew what he had to do.

"Run!" He said, half whispered and half growled.

"What?" He was cut off from answering when the horsemen clattered into the grove.

"I thought I heard something." One of them said gruffly. Another, seemingly the leader, dismounted and turned slowly about. Suddenly, he turned and his eyes locked onto the undergrowth where Todd lay. Rook acted quickly, before he could consider the certain death that he would meet. He bolted from behind the tree and ran past the men in the opposite direction of where Todd lay.

"Outlaw! Get him!" Yelled the leader.

Rook sprinted as fast as his legs would carry him. If he could just lead them away from Todd, the boy would have a chance to save himself. If he was lucky, he could double back and lose them, or take them to the crags where he could have an advantage. If he wasn't lucky…The answer came to him in the form of a fourth horseman, dead ahead of him. He cursed himself for his stupidity; of course one would stand sentinel. The horseman cut him off, and soon the others circled around him.

"Take his head."

Rook paled. It was over now.

"Wait." Rook let out a sigh of relief as the horseman let his sword arm go slack. "He may prove useful for information. We bring him to the sheriff." The leader said. Rook tried to swallow the lump in his throat. The sheriff. He glanced to the side in time to see the shaft of a spear being swung at his head. There was a burst of pain, and then darkness.


	4. Judas Kiss

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood.

A/N: I already had this one written, so here you go. This chapter shows what's happening for the band during the time Rook is captured. Thanks to Rawr I'm A Toaster, I'm pretty sure you're the only person actually reading this. J Please read and review.

"Bread, Lionel?" Etty asked, her usually serene face nothing more than a façade set to hide her discomfort. That evening, not one of the outlaws was faring well with the new turn of events.

"No. I'm not hungry." Lionel said quietly.

"You? Not hungry?" Rowan teased, but the playful smile did not reach her eyes. Uncomfortable silence fell upon them all until Beau's agitated voice broke through, passion betraying her accent.

"Stop!" They all looked at her as if she was mad. "How can you sit around and act like nothing is wrong?"

"Beau, leave it." Etty warned.

"No! I miss him and so do you. All of you, though you're too proud to admit it."

"I don't want to talk about it." Rowan cut in sharply. Lionel said heatedly,

"Why talk about him, the traitor? I don't miss him and neither should you. We're better off without him."

"Lionel-" Ro began, rubbing her temples.

"It's true! Better we know now that he feels no loyalty."

"Lionel, Rook kept the ring. He means to come back." Etty reasoned.

"And you believe him? He's probably selling us out to the sheriff right now!" Lionel raged. Rowan gave him a stony gaze.

"You know that's not true."

"Rook would never betray us." Beau added surely. "He may be many things, but he is no traitor."

"Rowan gave us a choice and he did what he thought was right. I suppose we cannot condemn him for that." Ettarde said thoughtfully, but with a twinge of sadness.

"But he still left." Lionel said, his anger giving way to hurt. "If he cared about Rowan, about any of us- he would have stayed."

"I'm sure he had his reasons." Etty said, sighing. Ro nodded vaguely.

"Do you think he will return?" Beau asked quietly.

"I don't know." Ro breathed lightly. "But I really hope so."


	5. Beneath the Lash

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood.

A/N: Okay, Sheriff time! I based the Sheriff on the version of his character in Robin Hood BBC- a fantastic show, I assure you- so I hope you enjoy. This chapter gets a little darker; torture warning, though it's not too bad. I thought I would play off the last chapter with a little bit of irony, using Lionel' s comment about Rook spilling all of their secrets to the Sheriff. Oh, if he only knew…So anyway, please read and review.

Rook's first conscious thought was pain. The blow to his head had left a throbbing ache, and Rook had to focus all his strength to even open his eyes. Once he did, he was reminded of brush with death and his capture- and fear enveloped him. He had been spared to be used for information. And it was the Sheriff who would control his fate.

"He's waking up, sir." Rook heard a voice say from somewhere nearby.

"Ah, yes, the little woods brat has returned to us." A cruel, mocking voice replied. Rook's eyes came to focus, and he saw above him the man he had deemed his mortal enemy, ever since that fateful day of his father's death.

"String him up, men." The guards seized Rook and dragged him upright, forcing him to stand while they tied his arms up above him, bound to a low hanging tree branch.

"I was just passing through the forest, and imagine my surprise when my men came back with an outlaw for my disposal." He grinned at the boy. "Do not fear: I will not kill you…yet. I have a rarer prize in mind." He approached Rook slowly, and said in a dangerously calm voice,

"Now tell me, where is Robin Hood?" The sheriff eyed him, a trace of impatience present behind his smirk. Rook kept his silence. The man began to circle him as he said. "All right. I see you are going to be difficult. Keep in mind boy, I have no qualms about hurting you. You're gallows' meat, anyways."

The sheriff came to a stop close to the outlaws face.

"But heed me: if you do not give me the information I need now, I will break you. I will get what I want one way or another."

Rook met the sheriff's gaze and glared back at him. The sheriff grinned, showing the few teeth he still had and said in menacing interest,

"So, what will it be?" Rook welled with hatred for the man before him. He spat in his face. The sheriff jumped back, wiping the spittle off his cheek with disgust. His features darkened with anger, and in a single motion he moved forward and back-handed Rook across the face.

Rook yelped in surprise, the strike taking him of guard. His head snapped to the side and a thin cut was left where the man's ring had grazed him.

"You dare to show me disrespect, and you will pay for it. I gave you a chance and you chose foolishness." The sheriff grabbed him by the throat and drew him closer as he whispered,

"I show no mercy to fools."

He thrust the outlaw back and ordered one of his men,

"Bring me a horsewhip." Rook gulped, fear clotting in him. He knew there would be torture, but he had not counted on a thrashing. He realized painfully that he was about to understand how Todd had been hurt. His stomach knotted when he remembered what the boy's scars had looked like.

The sheriff twisted the leather cord around his fingers, testing the thickness, and glancing up to see the expression on his victim's face. Rook restrained himself from showing his fear. He sucked in a breath and set his face into an unreadable mask, ignoring the churning in his stomach.

"That's right. Act brave. I'll have you screaming for me to stop before this is over." The man said, glorying in his control over what was about to happen. He tore Rook's jerkin open, leaving the pale skin on his back vulnerable. Rook could not see the Sheriff as he raised the whip, and so failed to brace himself before the first blow was landed. The leather tore into his skin, ripping from the nape of his neck to the bottom of his spine. Rook gasped, but quickly bit his lip to silence himself. He would not play the sheriff's sadistic little game.

"One." The Sheriff said darkly. He raised the whip again. The crack of the lash caused him to jerk just as much as the sharp impact. Without warning, another blow landed, causing Rook to draw blood from the lip he bit so hard.

"Two. Three." The man said. "Where is Robin Hood?" He didn't answer and the sheriff raised the whip to strike again. Every inch of Rook screamed for him to preserve himself.

"I don't know where he is!" Rook gasped out. The sheriff smiled broadly.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough. Where is he?" Rook just shook his head madly. The Sheriff took it as refusal to answer and brought the lash down again.

"Four! Five! Six!" The Sheriff exclaimed wildly. Each blow was agony for Rook, the harsh leather biting into him, and the marks crisscrossing in a lattice over his skin. Rook could hold it in no more. His bravery could only do so much; he cried out.

"Now maybe you'll see the wisdom in talking." The Sheriff said grinning broadly. Rook's brow furrowed against the pain, and he bit out,

"Never!" The Sheriff shook his head and said with sneer,

"You think you're protecting them? Do you really think for one moment that if Hood or any of your outlaw friends were in your position, that they would defend _you_?"

"I _know_ it!" Rook gasped between pants.

"Then you are truly a fool, boy. They don't care about you, they're too concerned about saving their own hides!" Rook opened his mouth to retort, but the Sheriff beat him to it. "If they care about you, then where are they? Why haven't they come to save you?"

Rook tried to speak, but could think of no reply. To tell the truth would be to give away his friends, which he would die before doing. But he could not stand the look of pure smugness on the Sheriff's face. It had to be challenged.

"You'll never find them!"

The Sheriff eyed him curiously, as if trying to discern the best method of persuasion, or rather, torture. His cruel eyes flickered, and Rook could almost see the plan forming there.

"Perhaps we should try something different." He gestured to his guards. "Take him down"

Rough hands seized the outlaw and cut the rope binding his arms above him. They pulled a second rope tight around his wrists and used it to drag him to the Sheriff, where he was thrown unceremoniously at the man's feet. The Sheriff seized the boy's hair and forced his head back.

"Now listen close: I want to find Robin Hood, and I know you can take me to him. Lead me to his camp and I will spare your life. But, should you lead me on an endless chase…your head will be hanging from my saddle before you can say 'Prince John'. It's no use trying to trick me, I know his camp lies under a giant oak tree in the forest. You're going to show me where that tree is." The Sheriff forced him to his feet and pushed him forward, one hand grasping the rope-leash. "Now start walking."

Rook stumbled forward, his mind furiously trying to work out a plan. He was as good as dead. He couldn't lead them astray. He couldn't give away the camp. But Rook knew already that he would have no choice if he wanted to survive. If he was lucky, someone would find him before it was too late. _Robin must be on his way back by now_, Rook tried to convince himself. _He will come for me._


	6. Always Another Last Moment

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood in any sphere of the imagination.

A/N: And we're back! More serious whump this chapter, but I promise it has purpose in the story arc! Hopefully enjoy, and please read and review.

Rook marched forward, driven by the dagger pressed to his back. The Sheriff forced him to lead, like a dog, the rope from his bound hands serving as a leash. Through the forest they traveled. All the while, Rook said a silent prayer to the lady for any opportunity to escape before they reached their destination. He could not lead them astray as he had planned, for the Sheriff knew of the camp they were looking for. He was caught, and had no choice but to venture towards Robin's oak- and towards certain death. Once led to the outlaw's camp, Rook reasoned, he would be of no more use to the Sheriff. He would be killed.

Rook moved only as slowly as he dared. Though his wounds ached , the Sheriff drove a pace fit to exhaust him. At every rest or hesitation in his direction, the knife bore further into Rook's back. But he refused to show more than a wince, and bit his lip against the pain. As they sloshed through the creek not but a little ways from the Rowan Hollow, Rook fell. He slipped along the rocks and cried out as the stone engraved a jagged cut along his forearm. His blood mixed with the water, water he knew to have its source at the Hollow's spring. In that moment he felt a pang of loneliness. What he would give to have his friends with him now…Perhaps it was better this way. No one else would have to get hurt.

He was driven from his revelry as the Sheriff pulled him upright and urged him onward. They continued, Rook growing more desperate as the foliage thickened: a telling sign of the camp's disguise. Would Robin be there? Rook panicked at the thought. If he were to betray Robin to his death…It was unlikely the outlaw would have returned already, but that knowledge did not ease Rook's racing mind. Either way, a grim fate awaited him at the end of the road.

Rook passed through the close branches of maple, ducking his head to avoid them. Beyond lay the camp. Rook's heart skipped: it was deserted. The remnants of a fire were scattered about, an empty cook pot strung over the ashes. The pile of deerskins sat untouched at the head of a low wooden table. Not a soul could be seen, not even by the oak that marked the center of the camp.

The Sheriff appeared beside Rook, his eyes searching the camp for a moment before his eyebrows arched downward in anger. The man strode to the left, than the right, coming to stand by the empty cook pot. In one swift motion he sent the pot and its rigging into the ashes with a crash. Rook jumped at the sound, anticipating in fear the wrath that was about to be expelled by the man before him.

"Where is he!" The Sheriff roared. The man rounded on him and came at the outlaw in a fury. He seized Rook by the hair and pulled him close to his face. He seethed,

"Where IS he?" Rook gazed into the man's eyes, using all of his control to keep steady and show no emotion. He would not let him see that he was afraid. The Sheriff shook him by the shoulders.

"Well? Answer me, you outlaw rat! Where is he?"

Upon receiving no answer, the Sheriff drew back a fist and slammed it into Rook's face. The boy saw stars. Before he could regain his bearings, the Sheriff lashed out at him with a manner of blows, attacking his chest, stomach, head, and face. Rook could do nothing to shield himself. He took the beating with his teeth clenched, grunts of pain accompanying the sound of fist on flesh. One hard punch to the jaw and Rook crumpled to the earth. The Sheriff kicked him between the ribs, causing him to sputter and gasp for breath. The Sheriff bore down on him, wrapping his hands around the boy's throat and squeezing firmly. He choked the life from him and exclaimed harshly,

"You've crossed me too many times!" Rook writhed where he lay, eyes wide in terror, knowing in that moment that his death was upon him.

"Mercy," He gasped. "Please, mercy!"

"You are of no more use to me. You die here and now, outlaw." The Sheriff hissed. He tightened his grip, and Rook could see black spots moving in around the corners of his vision.

"Sir?" Came the voice of one of the Sheriff's men.

"Not now!" The Sheriff growled.

"It's Hood, sir. He's been sighted."

Instantly, the pressure on Rook's windpipe lifted, and he coughed heavily, desperate for breath. For the moment the Sheriff's attention was diverted.

"Where?" He questioned, scathingly.

"The North Road. He's been spotted heading around the bend, coming this way." The Sheriff appeared thoughtful as he considered the new information. Rook took the opportunity to gulp in deep breaths, now that his death sentence seemed temporarily revoked.

"Shall we position for a surprise capture, my lord?" Another of the guards asked.

"No. He will be cautious in returning. We shall head him off." The Sheriff's eyes drifted to Rook with glistening malice.

"Perhaps this boy has one last use for my cause. Tell me, is there a mantrap by the North Road?"


	7. Snare

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood. I do not own it in a box, I do not own it with a fox…

A/N: Things are heating up! Super long chapter this time. Please read and review! Enjoy…

The sheriff dragged him down the ravine, his fist entangled in the boy's raven-black cropping of hair. He hauled him through the underbrush whilst exclaiming cheerily,

"You may think you can stand up to me, but soon you'll know your folly. You will deliver Robin Hood into my waiting hands."

The came to a quick halt at the bottom of the ravine, and the sheriff shoved him hard towards a folding crevasse in the ground. He fell into the ditch, the jaws of the mantrap snapping shut on his leg and shattering the bone. Rook could not help the cry of anguish that tore from his throat.

"Now, you see, we have an interesting situation." The sheriff said, idly stroking the hair back from Rook's forehead. The boy was paling rapidly and trying his best to hold in the whimpers of pain.

"I'll give you a choice: Whistle your little signal, that Hood and all his outlaw friends will come to save you. I'll even wait until they free you from the trap and staunch the blood." He said, his tongue lingering on the word blood. Rook shivered and tried to pull himself out of reach as the man moved his hand to the outlaw's face, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb, almost too gently.

"Or…" He cupped the boy's face and roughly turned it to him, his nails digging into the boy's skin. "You can stay in the trap and die." He came closer to Rook. "A long and painful death. Just like your father." He smirked as he drew back.

"It's your choice."

Rook breathed heavily, desperately trying to stay awake. The pain was unbearable. He would not last long like this, the sharp metal grinding into his flesh and freeing fresh blood. Loyalty and instinct warred inside him. He couldn't give up Robin. But to refuse the sheriff was to except his death sentence. No matter how he thought of it he knew the truth: he did not want to die like his father. The idea terrified him, for the sheriff was right- he would die alone. It was an enormity. The will to survive overcame Rook, and he surrendered once more to betrayal. Shakily, he raised his fingers to his mouth. He saw the sheriff's smile grow wider at the prospect of winning this cruel game he had begun. Lady, forgive me. Rook thought. Robin forgive him. He had to do it. His bloodied fingers met coarse lips and he blew. The signal was sent. There was no going back now.

Robin perked up his ears, silencing his men with a single gesture. He had definitely heard the signal. Someone was in trouble. But who? Could it be Rowan? He choked back panic at the thought. If it was not her, than one of the others. They were hurt or captured, and if Robin didn't get there soon…he pushed the thought from his mind, racing in the direction of the call, a few of his men following.

Rook glanced up at the snapping of twigs just ahead of him. He thought the urge to be sick as he shifted painfully in the trap, aware that he had finally been found. Once Robin had seen him, the outlaw and his three men raced into the ravine to help him.

"Rook!" Robin yelled, horrorstruck by what he had found.

"A mantrap!"

"Lady have mercy!"

Each of the out laws wore shocked and appalled expressions as they neared him. Suddenly, Rook realized, with a jolt of his stomach, exactly what he had done. They would all be captured. All these men, trying to help him, killed because of him. With what strength he had left, he shouted his warning.

"Robin! Run, it's a trap!" Robin stopped abruptly looking confused. "Run!" Rook screamed again, wild-eyed. The other outlaws snapped out of their pause and managed to pull Robin along with them. But it was too late. The sheriff's men rose from their hiding places among the rocks. They were surrounded.

"Well, well. Nice of you to join us, Hood." The sheriff mocked, moving in on the outlaws, like a predator to his prey.

"No really, the pleasure is all mine." Robin spat back in false courtesy. He was defiant even in the face of defeat.

"You really ought not to have underestimated me, Robin. I told you I would catch you, and thanks to your little friend," He gestured to Rook where he lay gasping and trying to dodge the eyes of Robin, thinking surely they would show only betrayal, "I finally have you. He was most helpful too, giving me all the information I wanted. It did not take much pain to get him to respond. Really Hood, I'd think you would surround yourself with more enduring men." Though pale and weakening, Rook's face still flushed in embarrassment, but he had no strength to respond.

"Leave him ought of this!" Said Robin heatedly. "Let he and my men go and I will come quietly. This is between you and me."

The sheriff grinned wickedly at that and said snidely,

"While that is a tempting offer, I would not be pleased with anything less than the complete set. Besides, you are not in much of a position to be bargaining with me." He turned and strode over to Rook, kneeling down by the trap.

"You, my friend," He began coldly, "have been a great help to me." He reached out a hand and thumped him on the shoulder. Rook gasped with pain at the impact.

The sheriff stood and gestured to some of his soldiers,

"Come and take him from the trap. He has fulfilled his word."

There was no comforting hand or kind words from any of the men as they wrenched open the trap with a loud screech. Rook had told himself he wouldn't scream. He had always been good at lying to himself. Almost immediately, scarlet blood began to gush from his wounds, and Rook had to turn away so as not to faint from the sight.

"On the other hand," The sheriff said, just as one of the soldiers reached around Rook to pull him out of the trap. "Hood was not to have been warned of what was coming." He turned and smirked at Rook. "You see boy, your actions could have had severe consequences if Hood had, say, gotten away. I believe that changes our agreement. Close the trap." Rook thrashed to get away as the soldier nearest him re-sprung the trap. It clanged into place reentering his recent wounds. Rook cried out, a horrible moan of torture.

"This is the price you pay for your stupidity." The Sheriff sneered. "Now on to Nottingham." He declared, cheerily. He shot a look over his shoulder at the boy and said, "So nice to have met you, Rook."

"Let him go! You can't leave him like that!" Robin yelled as he was dragged away with his men.

"Robin…" Rook called softly, tears of pain beginning to trickle down his face. "Robin, I'm sorry."

Robin could do no more than look forlornly at the outlaw before he was turned and marched out of sight. Rook was left alone. The peaceful atmosphere of the forest was disrupted only by the sound of weak sobs.

"Do you think he's still alive?" The question was voiced so softly, for a moment Little John wasn't sure it had been spoken. He glanced over to the corner of the cell where Robin sat, curled up, his face set in grim sadness.

"Take heart, Robin. He may yet be alive." The outlaw said reassuringly.

"But for how long?" Robin's usually sparkling eyes were dark and cold as they flickered up at John; there was no hint of anything but seriousness. John thought carefully before he replied.

"Rook is a strong lad. He's survived much in his time. If his will is strong, I believe he will pull through."

"I wish I could save him." Robin said, emotion evident in his voice. "I have a debt to him that now I cannot pay. He suffers in the mantrap for warning me. He tried to protect me, and for what? Now we are both consigned to die." John shifted and attempted to reach a comforting hand to Robin, but the chains kept them too far apart. He drew back and sighed.

"Then we will pray." John said. "Lady save the boy. Save us."

Suddenly a hushed whisper broke the silence.

"Robin!"

The four outlaws looked up towards the voice, finding a small figure clad in the livery of the sheriff. Once he drew closer, his boyish face could be seen under the helmet. Robin recognized him first.

"Todd! By my troth! What are you doing here?" Robin whispered excitedly, his customary grin lighting up his face.

"Rescuing you, of course!" The boy said, smiling in return.


	8. Foreboding

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood.

A/N: Whoa! Sorry it's been so long since I've updated! I won't make excuses, because I don't have any. So, on with the story! Please read and review!

_There was blood. So much blood. Rowan screamed in pain as the trap mangled her leg, its metal jaws glinting in sharp contrast with the spattering of scarlet. She thrashed, desperate to escape the prison, though each movement was agony. _

_Shadows circled round; Ro could see the face of her father coming forth from the darkness, his face twisted in horror and fear. He cried out to her. _

_The blood was coming faster now. There was nothing she could do to staunch it. Another face entered in above her: the sheriff. He laughed, a terrible, dark sound. _

"_Stay there and die, outlaw." He rasped. Rowan thrashed harder in the trap. There was no escape. The metal bindings grew tighter, and the pain in her legs was nearly unbearable. She shook her head frantically, dark, matted hair falling over her eyes. Her own ragged breaths filled her ears._

"_Rook! No!"_

Rowan was jolted out of her nightmare. She let out choked sobs, meanwhile wiping at her eyes where tears rained. Ro tried to settle her breathing. _Just a bad dream. Nothing more_, she told herself. But it had been frightening, worse than any she had had in the past few weeks.

Ro moved to sit by the dying fire. She stoked it, and sat by warming herself to dispel not only the cold, but the fear. She was so wrapped up in her clouded mind, that when a blanket was draped over her she started like a nervous deer.

"It's just me." Said the honeyed tones of Lionel. Ro breathed out.

"Toads take it, Lionel, you nearly scared me out of my skin." He studied her intently for a moment.

"What is it?" Ro looked into the fire and replied softly,

"Nothing. Just a nightmare."

"Again? Was it the mantrap?" He asked gently. Ro felt gratitude that she did not need to explain it more than to nod slowly. Lionel moved beside her and wrapped a secure arm around her quivering shoulders.

"This time it was different." She said softly. "I felt it as real as if it had been me, but it wasn't."

Lionel took on a puzzled expression. He asked,

"What do you mean?"

"It wasn't like the other dreams. In those, I would see flashes of what happened that day. Usually Etty screaming my name, and the foresters coming for me. But this time my father was there. And the

sheriff-"

"The sheriff?" Lionel asked, incredulously.

"Yes. But that's not what unsettles me. It was Rook caught in the trap." The name prompted Lionel's face to shadow, but Ro continued on. "I saw it all like it was me, but I know it was him. Before it was over, I heard my father's voice call out 'Rook'. You may think me mad, but I have a terrible feeling that it meant something." She finished.

Lionel snorted.

"The only thing it means is that you have been thinking on him too long. You're just bringing him into your memories about the trap."

"No, it's more than that." Rowan said. "What if it's real?" Lionel raised an eyebrow at that.

"You really think he's fallen into a mantrap?"

"I'm afraid to believe it."

Lionel shook his head and got to his feet.

"It's nothing. Forget what you saw, it will only serve to trouble you." She looked up at him and sighed.

"You're probably right."

"Get some sleep." He turned towards his bedroll before adding, "Rowan? He's alright. Wherever he is."

Rowan stayed by the fire a little while longer. She whispered a prayer to the lady in the name of her friend. _Please, let him be safe._


	9. Fight or Flight

Disclaimer: I do not own Rowan Hood, or else it would be a BBC miniseries by now.

Robin could hardly believe his eyes.

"Todd, lad. Is it really you?"

"Of course, Robin." Laughed the boy. His eyes were alight with excitement in the face of danger. "Now, we had best get you free before anyone sees."

"But Todd, how did you find us? By my weary eyes, it's been so long since you left us. Look how you've grown." He said fondly. Todd nodded quickly but quickly replied,

"There will be time for explanations later."

Behind Robin, there was a shifting as the other outlaws rose and crowded to the bars.

"How are we to escape?" Little John asked Todd, listening intently to his leadership. Todd drew from his belt a set of keys and proceeded to try each one in the lock as he spoke.

"Once I get you out of the cell, we will have to grab the guards from behind and take their weapons. As long as we keep them from raising the alarm, we should be able to sneak through the square and to the stables. I figure we'll have a few moments to ride out of the gates before they can stop us."

"There's a great deal of risk involved." Robin stated.

"I know. But we have no other choice." Todd responded darkly. Robin studied him as he tested the keys, warm crinkle in the corners of his eyes.

"You really have grown. I can hardly believe you are the same young man who came to us all those months ago." Finally, the correct key was fitted, and Todd swung the door open.

"Come on."

***X***

Rook was fading fast. Little over an hour had passed since Robin and his men had disappeared with the Sheriff. At first, Rook had tried to stop up the blood by pressing his hand firmly against the wounds. It was to no avail; even the slightest movement or pressure pushed the iron teeth further into his flesh. It was torture, far worse than anything the Sheriff had unleashed on him in his search for Robin.

And Robin…Lady, Rook felt sick to think of what he had caused. He had failed. He had betrayed the man, and lured the outlaws to their death. If Rowan knew what he had done…It did not bear thinking about. Rook found it more painful than the wound itself, knowing that he was going to die cursed and hated. He would die alone, without a friend in the world. And no one would care that he had perished so awfully. Only a few tears worked their way down his dirtied cheeks; he was too weak to shed more. Soon, his consciousness would leave him.

Darkness rimmed around the edges of his vision. _No_. His last ounce of strength swelled forth, raging against death. No, he would not die like this. He would not go quietly.

Death could not take him. Not like this. Panic flared in his mind, but some fuzzy sensation began to spread through him, and he found himself utterly powerless. Blackness closed in around Rook, his thoughts trailing to an end.

_No. No, please. Not like this. _

_***X***_

All went according to plan as they neared guards' chamber at the front of the jail. The outlaws crept silently, Robin and Todd at the head.

"How many are there, lad? Can you see?" Robin whispered. They were angled behind the doorway, Todd in just the right position to peer around the corner.

"Six. A few playing dice, one sitting back with a drink, and another couple talking on the farside." He answered quietly.

"Good. We can overtake them. We'll need to take our weapons back once we get in there, though, don't forget."

Robin turned back to his mates and motioned them forward. Once they were huddled together, he hastily explained the plan.

"Todd, I need you to go into the open, just enough to attract the guards- then run back this way. We shall take them by surprise. John, I trust you can use your strength with that advantage."

John nodded surely, and each followed in suit.

"Alright." Todd turned and made to go, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Robin held him back long enough to say,

"Be careful." He looked at him hard, cautioning in earnest. Todd nodded and dashed away.

"Hey! You there, stop!" Came the cry of a guard. Todd sprinted back through the doorway. Behind him followed the guards, still befuddled by the sudden appearance of the young man, and unaware of the attack that was about to befall them.

"Now!"

The outlaws leapt upon the unsuspecting men. The battle was a quick and decisive one. John brought two to unconsciousness by bashing their heads together with great force; meanwhile, Robin took down his foe with but a few well-aimed punches. It seemed as though all of them had fallen.

But a resounding battle-cry alerted the outlaws to the last of the guardsmen; the man had quick enough thought to pull his sword from its scabbard. He lunged, aiming the blade at Robin's heart.

"No!" Robin had braced himself for the blow, but it did not come. Instead, Todd had thrown himself in front of Robin, and met the sword with a dagger of his own. The boy took advantage of the guard's momentary hesitation, and threw him backwards, slashing the man's torso. The enemy fell to his knees with a howl of pain.

"Come on!" Todd called over his shoulder to the outlaws.

The men glanced around at each other, awe and disbelief lingering in the silence.

"He saved my life." Robin said dumbly. John sobered first, and maneuvered his leader towards the outer room.

"Come, Robin. We're not free yet."


	10. Back to the Forest

Disclaimer: I own nothing, but sadly, fanfiction owns ME!

A/N: And on we go! This will be a short chapter, just for the sake of continuation.

The outlaws quickly reclaimed their weapons, hardly pausing in their haste to escape. Robin slung his bow over his shoulder, absentmindedly, his gaze locking on to Todd; he watched as the boy cleaned his dagger of the guard's blood. He could hardly fathom the quick action Todd had taken to save his life. But he was not allowed to ponder it long.

"Quick now," Todd said as he stowed his blade back into its scabbard, "We have to be past the gates before they wake."

He spoke with the authority of Robin himself- like the leader of an outlaw band. No one questioned his word. As they made to leave, however, Robin gave a final command.

"We must slip out casually- one or two at a time; we can't afford to draw attention to ourselves." As John made to go first, he added, "And keep your weapons concealed-"

"But in reach." Todd finished. Robin looked at him with surprise, and then smiled.

"That's right." Robin agreed.

Robin's men began the exodus from the prison. John went first, alone; at the last moment, Robin instructed him to return to the forest, keeping just out of sight of the North Road.

"When you reach the grove of evergreens, just near the ravines, hide and wait for me there. Then we are to go directly to where we left Rook." He felt queasy at the mention of the boy's name. "We'll have to take him from the trap, so be prepared."

Robin himself was not sure what he meant- be prepared for what? To spring the heavy metal jaws back, or to be ready with bandages? Or something worse- to prepare themselves for what they would find? Something stuck in Robin, tight like the end of a hangman's noose; he had felt it again and again since leaving Rook in the trap. In all likeliness, he thought wretchedly, the boy was dead. Or even more horrid to think of: Rook may have gone made with the pain of it.

"Someone will have to run to the camp for supplies, if we are to treat him-" Much, the miller's son began.

"No!" Todd broke in, his voice hard with certainty. "The camp..."

He seemed to think better of what he was going to say, instead replying,

"I have bandages in my pack." He explained quickly, "We mustn't waste any time in getting to him."

Robin nodded soberly, the others joining him. After John had departed, and a few more moments had passed, Much and Will Scathelock slipped out into the street. Robin and Todd waited in silence until Todd spoke.

"We can't go back to the camp, Robin. Not ever."

Robin looked into his eyes, which showed a knowing sadness.

"They found the camp."

"How could they have...?" Robin asked, the depression in his gut deepening.

"Later." Todd replied, gently. He laid a hand on the shoulder of his friend and father figure. "We should go."

The two walked from the jail with darkened thoughts, racing.

***X***

When they arrived at the grove, the other outlaws were waiting for them. Uneasiness thickened the air about them, but a small measure of relief came with the return of the last two comrades.

"Robin!" Much called, the tension in his stance lessening. The outlaws eased at the sight of their leader. They gathered around the newcomers quickly.

"I am glad you all escaped without trouble." Robin said warmly, clasping hands with his companion, and looking at them each in turn. "But we cannot stop to rest, not until we help Rook."

He did not add the rest of his thought- that Rook may be beyond help. Even if the boy lived, he would have lost so much blood...and without Rowan there to heal him...

"What are we waiting for?" Todd said, breaking him from his reverie. Robin nodded once, then gestured them to follow; he turned and set off at a careful run, hastily ducking tree limbs and leaping through the underbrush.

Todd matched him for speed. When his clothes caught on the briars, he ripped them free. He raced beside Robin, both of them breathing hard as they tore down the ravine towards the road. Robin jerked to a halt. Todd nearly ran into him at the abrupt stop.

"Why did you stop? Where is he?" Todd asked, his eyes flickering all around the wood, and back at Robin. Robin pointed ahead of them, staring at the ground a few feet away: the steel jaws of the mantrap were clamped around emptiness.

"It's empty." Robin said, hardly above a whisper. "He's gone."


	11. Mortal Peril

A/N: Hey, there … It's been awhile (dodges flying projectiles). To anybody who is still following this story, I apologize for the incredibly long wait. But I have not given up! I'm back with the next installment of "A Wild Boy's Journey". Please R&R!

"Wake up."

"Come back to the day."

"Robin needs you."

"Todd needs you."

"Rowan needs you, now more than ever."

"Get up, Rook, get up."

Rook's eyelids parted no more than a crack, yet the harsh light of morning still sent them snapping shut. He groaned, groggy and confused.

"Wake up, Rook."

Wake up? Had he gone to sleep? He fought to remember. No...no, he had been caught in the mantrap. Had he been rescued? No, he remembered weakening with pain, losing consciousness…

_Am I dead? _

Rook forced his eyes open, ignoring the sunlight that was driving knives into his skull. He had to know. Had he passed on to some afterlife? All he saw above him were the boughs of a Rowan tree, the leaves gilded gold against the dawn sky. He would have smiled if not for the pain. How fitting to awaken in the Rowan Grove.

"You are safe."

"Come back to the earth."

He started at the voices, realizing for the first time that they were not the remnants of a dream or fever, but surrounding him as vividly as the birdsong. Rook sat up. He searched the line of the grove for the speakers, but found no one.

"Who's there?" He called. His throat was scratchy from lack of use.

At first, no one answered. Rook continued to survey the trees. Just as he was beginning to doubt that he had heard anything at all, a low rumble seemed to envelope him, rising from the very rocks he sat atop.

"Rook."

"Son of Jack Woodsby."

"Son of Jack By-The-Woods."

"The boy called Runkling."

The voices were neither male nor female, young nor old, but Rook knew at once who spoke to him. These were the Aelfe, the spirits Rowan had always spoken of...the spirits Rook had never believed in… He could not speak for fear and awe. These spirits knew him. They knew everything about him. They held his very life in their hands. He trembled.

"Speak, boy."

Rook gulped. He whispered,

"I am here, spirits. What do you ask of me?"

Rook looked a little closer at the Rowan trees about him. He could just make out the faint figures standing between the trunks. They were so faint he had almost mistaken them for morning mist.

"Rowan needs you, Rook."

"She ignored our wisdom."

"She is heading towards her doom."

"If you fail to reach her in time, her life and the lives of your friends will all be forfeit."

Rook's heart clenched. They were all to die without him? How could he possibly make it to Celadine's Wood before his friends did? And what of Robin? And now that he had his injuries from the mantrap to contend with-

The mantrap!

"Spirits!" Rook exclaimed, turning his attention to his legs. They were healed! There was only a scar left where the teeth had sunk into his flesh. He felt a dull ache, but not the fire that should have been there, scalding him into madness. He should long since have died.

"Spirits!" He called, looking back up to the immortals. "How am I alive? The trap would have killed me…"

"We brought you here." The Aelfe responded, sounding almost haughty.

"We healed you."

"You are needed and so you must live."

"Live to save the daughter of Celadine."

Rook nodded quickly, reverently.

"I will. I will, I swear it to you."

"You will." The Aelfe agreed. "But you need her father's help. He is the only one who can stop the evil that hunts her."

"Bring him to Celadine's Wood, before Rowan is lost forever."

Rook hesitated.

"But Robin is already lost...He was captured because of me." Rook choked.

"He lives yet, young one. The Sheriff's son has played his part well. Robin and his friends search for you as we speak."

"Todd? Todd saved him?" Hope surged through Rook, the relief flooding him with warmth. It was not too late! Robin lived!

"Yes, he escaped, but all is not well. Robin has seen the empty mantrap and moves to regroup with his men. They are camped in the only sanctuary left for outlaws in Sherwood."

"The crags." Rook supplied. He had spoken to Robin of his former home in the caves. They were just to the west of the road; it was a small wonder that the men would seek shelter there when they learned of Robin's capture.

"Robin is headed there now. But he does not know he is pursued. He is leading the Sheriff's army right to his own men. It will be a massacre."

"I have to stop them!" Rook cried, clambering to his feet.

"Go now, child! They're depending on you!"

Rook dipped a hasty bow.

"Thank you."

"Go! Make haste. Let the spirits of the wood guide you!"

Rook vaulted over the rock wall of the grove and dashed off into the forest.

_Please don't let me be too late. _


End file.
